Plot Bunnies and the Imp of the Perverse
by screaming phoenix
Summary: All the other writers get those fuzzy, warm plot bunnies, I get Quezel....


Plot bunnies and The Imp of the Perverse

All new all purpose **Disclaimer**. It cleans; it brightens and removes soap scum off bathroom fixtures. Buy is now in this once of a lifetime offer that will be repeated for years on late night cable.

Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable and the rest were created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley for the Disney Channel; who owns all rights to the characters.

The Charles Dickens partial quote was from _A Christmas Carol_

The Imp of the Perverse was written by Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)_ First published in the 1845 July issue of Graham's Lady's And Gentleman's Magazine, and republished, in slightly revised form, in various of Poe's other collections in later years._

Quezel comes from my own fevered imagination.

I wish to thank the following authors that graciously allowed me to use their Pen Names in this tale. **The Wise Duck, Michael Howard, Mr. Wizard, Zaratan, Mr.Dr.P. Spectre666, JAKT, **and especially** CajunBear73.**

A special thanks to **Spectre666** for allowing me to poke fun at him and the reason he hasn't updated "The Lecture" in **two years! **He claims he never got to fifteen but, I have my doubts.

Very special thanks to the father-daughter writing team of **JAKT** for giving me some very much appreciated help.

And a very special thanks to **KT **for volunteering to beta this for me, you are a lady and a scholar.

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**Plot Bunnies and the Imp of the Perverse**

"Great." I moaned. "Three o'clock in the morning and not an idea to be had. Is there anything more depressing than being up this late at night and be staring at a blank sheet of paper? Where are all those plot bunnies that I read about?"

Placing my head in my hands I briefly considered giving up my fruitless quest for a Kim Possible story idea and just go to bed. That's when I first heard the sound. It was low, at first, and then gained in strength until it could not be effetely denied. It called to me in subtle ways, tickling my curiosity and demanding my attention. I looked up and then to the right where the sound was coming from.

There, sitting on the top of my computer tower, leaning on my external hard drive, in all her glory, was a six inch Shego. She was dressed in her familiar green and black with the customary smirk on her highly amused face. The look she gave me was half scorn and drilled into me like a dentist into a root cannel. "Does Shego have any other expression other that scorn?" I wondered to myself; and half in outright merriment.

She lifted her head further up and looked me straight in the eye.

"About time you looked up here sport. I was beginning to think that you were as dense as that buffoon that Kimmie lip locks with."

'Great.' I thought as I rolled my eyes in disbelief. 'Up late, no ideas for any kind of story, and now I'm hallucinating, wonderful, nobody ever mentioned that going insane was possible trying to write fan fiction. You think that, at least; I could have gotten a warning about it.'

"Hey chuckles." The miniature Shego yelled. "Eyes this way."

I briefly considered the fact that I might have fallen asleep at my computer again and was dreaming this whole thing in some odd little corner of my mind. That thought was quickly dispelled when Shego spoke up again.

"No sport you aren't dreaming, I'm real."

I rested my head on the heal of my right hand and regarded this tiny visitor with a skeptical look on my face.

"I feel the need to quote Charles Dickens right about now. You know the' bit of underdone potato' part...'.There's more gravy than grave about you' thing. How do I know you weren't brought on by that peanut butter coated pizza dipped in maple syrup snack I had an hour or so ago?"

Shego shuddered slightly at the mention of my late night snack. Hey it was handy and I was hungry, besides it didn't taste too bad.

"Sorry sport, gastronomical atrocities aside, I'm as real as you are."

"May I ask why I have a six inch Shego sitting on my computer tower complaining about my late night snacking habits and insulting me to boot?"

Shego got up walked over to the end of my tower and sat down again, dangling her feet over the edge.

"Ok first I'm not Shego and second I'm here because you asked for me."

"So who are you?" I asked mystified.

"My name is Quezel and I'm the Imp of the Perverse. I just look like Shego to give your tiny little mind something to grasp."

"Great I'm being visited by a perverted demon. What else can go wrong tonight?"

"I said perverse not perverted you twit. There's a big difference!" Shego shouted at me.

"Why do I always have to explain this to you dolts?"

"What is the difference?" I asked mildly interested.

"Perverse is an action deliberately or stubbornly departing from the required, wayward or intractable. Am I using words too big for you? In other words sport if you do something that people doesn't expect; you're being perverse."

"And the other one?" I asked interested.

With this question Shego jumped off my tower, did a perfect back flip, and landed on my desk. She then ran up my arm and began to whisper in my ear. I recoiled in disgust at what she whispered and backed away from my desk. Shego then jumped down to my desk and back up to her place on my tower where she regarded me with a smirk.

"Eeeeewwwww! Was that necessary? I'm never going to get that image out of my mind now!"

"Well cupcake, don't ask questions if you don't want to hear the answers."

"Can you not look like Shego then? I don't need any other images like that in my head right now."

"Aw too bad I could have had some fun with that last one Ok I'll change Hold on."

With this she shimmered all over and began to change. When she stopped there was a small six inch man that was now standing on my tower. He was dressed in an imperceptibly tailored three-piece suit along with a briefcase at his side.

"Better?" He asked.

"Not really, now you look like a Disney lawyer. You know the ones who make us put the disclaimer on everything we post on the site."

"A lawyer, look buddy I may be an imp but we have standards!

"**A lawyer!"**

The nerve! I haven't been insulted this badly in……Come to think of it I have never been insulted this bad!" He fumed. "I have half a mind to just leave you here and stew in….. Ah never mind, I was going to say creative juices but you don't have any."

With that he shimmed and resumed the Shego form again.

"Get used to it sport, it's the form you're going to get from now on. And I'm an imp not a demon; big difference."

"Care to explain?" I asked, too tired to be afraid. Besides how can you be afraid of a six inch Shego anyway?

"Imps are a lower order of mythological beings. We're not evil just mischievous. Plus we get board easily and need something to help keep us focused. Just think of us as small Ron Stoppables. We need a Kim Possible to focus us. Demons: you don't want to mess with those guys."

"'I'm Kim Possible to your Ron Stoppable?" I asked with disbelief.

"And that shows what a sorry state of affairs it has become for me to admit that, cupcake" Shego moaned.

"Now why did you say I called you and how did I call you anyway?"

"Go back about ten minutes ago, late night and no ideas ...any of this ringing a bell with you yet?'

"Well I was hoping for some plot bunnies, you know, for ideas for a story."

"Well they aren't coming, get used to it."

"What! Everybody on the site talks about them! Why not me?"

"Well it's like this. The plot bunnies show up to inspire talented writers to write interesting stories."

"Yeah, so?"

"The trouble is you aren't talented or interesting so they don't bother with you."

"You mean that, of all the people writing on this site, the plot bunnies won't come near me?"

"Pretty much sport. Look it's not so bad. They get all those cute, fuzzy, bunnies that just inspire them and..."

"And?" I questioned.

"And you get me."

"I feel I'm not getting the best of this deal."

"You shouldn't look a gift imp in the mouth. I'm your last chance to write anything remotely interesting. If not me then you get to rely on your vast supply of uninspired mental wanderings."

"They aren't all bad. I do have three stories on line and I have gotten pretty good reviews too." I replied as I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Oh yeah, let's review you stellar body of work shall we: First you do a song fic. Good choice there, the song does all the work. Then you make fun of the site itself and kigo parings. Any half-wit can do that. And then for your best stuff; you rip off an Isaac Asimov concept add some clichés and stir in some Monty Python bathroom humor. Shakespeare is really worried about you."

"You never explained why you want to help me. I mean if I'm so hopeless why waste your time?"

"Are you serious? A writer who can't write? The very spirit of perversity! This could be the greatest challenge of my life. Look why do you want to write anyway?"

"Are you kidding? Have you read some of the authors that are on here? The Wise DuckMichael Howard, Mr. Wizard, Zaratan, Mr.Dr.P. Spectre666, JAKT. That's some impressive talent there. Do you know KT of JAKT is twelve years old? Do you know how depressing it is to realize that a twelve year old writes better than you?"

"This probably isn't the best time to mention that a five year old writes better than you once they get the whole crayon thing down?"

"You have a lousy bedside manner. And you're not very good in the pep talk category either." I informed her.

"Ok maybe I was a little harsh. Your stories aren't that bad and you do show some promise. We just need to step up your game a little. What's the name of the guy who beta reads for you?"

"CajunBear73"

She rolled her eyes at my reply.

"What he's a good guy, he even volunteered to do it."

"I'm just amazed that anyone would subject themselves willingly to your unedited works.

I bet he picks up stray dogs as well."

"Can we continue please it's getting late and I want to watch K.P. before I hit the sack"

"Right I give you a little inspiration now and again, you let him read it and input his thoughts and maybe, just maybe, I can do something about your unhealthy obsession with a cartoon character."

'It's a common ailment on this site if you'd care to notice."

Shego smirked again, "Yeah, I bet the mental health people would have a field day with you people. What Sigmund Freud would think of all of you; I don't care to think about."

"It's fun to do, and you meet some really nice and talented people."

"Whatever, Ok now that we have the ground rules down I'm going to give you your first inspiration. Bend down here."

'Why?"

"I have to whisper it to you, its part of the rules don't worry about it"

I lowered my head until it was level with her and she started whispering into my ear.

At first I couldn't believe what she was saying to me. But as she continued it suddenly made sense. What an idea! It was different, innovative and especially suited for my odd sense of humor. It was perfect! I turned my head and smiled at her.

"I take it you like?"

"Oh yeah, I like, I like a lot."

"Good." She said as she smiled back at me. "Get some rest, sleep on it and start in the morning."

"Quezel old girl , this could be the start of something great."

"Wonderful," Shego moaned as she started to disappear. "He's quoting old television advertisements. I have a lot of work to do."

Shego had just about disappeared when a thought came to me.

"Stop!" I exclaimed.

Shego turned her head to me and barked out "What?"

Now if talking to a six inch Shego was unnerving. Imagine talking to a disconnected head.

"Do you know the author Spectre666?"

"We don't share Christmas cards but, yeah, I know of him. Why?"

"Well it's just that he's writing some stories that I really like and..."

"Let me guess he hasn't updated in a while, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"I told you I know of him. He has a bit of a problem."

"What? I have done everything up to and including reporting him to Homeland Security for holding the stories hostage. Nothing works. What's up with that?"

"I told you he has a problem...he's easily distracted. Then he gets into tangents. Then he well..." Her voice dropped off.

"Well what?" I nearly shouted.

"He counts his toes." She finished in an almost whisper.

"He counts his toes? Are you saying that a writer of that talent spends time counting his toes? How long does it take to count to ten anyway?"

"It's not that simple. Like I told you he gets distracted. When he does, he...well... counts his toes to relieve stress."

"You haven't explained why it takes him so long to count to ten." I replied darkly.

"It's not that he can't count to ten it's just that he doesn't come up with the same answer twice. One time it was fifteen, I think he counted his hand on that one, and one time it was seven. He has promised that once he gets two counts of the same number he will quit; even if it's not ten."

"You know it makes sense in a way. How else would he come up with the name Pomegranate Possible?"

"Oh yeah like you don't have the odd weird habit, or do I have to mention the time you..."

"Hey no need to bring that up! Besides the base security couldn't prove it was me."

"Right," She smirked. "Are we done now?"

"Yeah, I guess. K.P. is coming on soon. Then to bed."

"Stick with me and you'll go places. Night."

With that last word, her head disappeared with a small pop.

While I watched K.P. my mind went over the things I had heard tonight. "This could be interesting, very interesting," I mused. "At least it's something different."

I sat back and watched the object of so many people's obsessions and that inspired so much devotion.

Tomorrow was going to be fun.

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A/N I wasn't going to put the reference to the root cannel in this tale. I mean have you ever had one of those things? You tend to repress those memories for a reason. So if you wince when you read that part... Blame KT she made me put it there...

(Yeah, I'm blaming a twelve year old, what's your point?)


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